Hidden in a Whisper (25 page)

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Authors: Tracie Peterson

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BOOK: Hidden in a Whisper
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Rachel opened her mouth to speak, then closed it tight. Her heart was in turmoil over the gamut of emotions within her.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

Shaking her head, Rachel replied, “No, why do you ask?”

“You're trembling. I can feel you shaking from head to toe.”

“Oh,” Rachel said, feeling her face flush. She was grateful for the dim moonlight, hoping her embarrassment was less evident in the shadows of night.

He chuckled, however, leaving her little doubt that he knew the real reason for her quaking body. They drove in silence to the resort, and Braeden happily handed the buggy back over to Tomas when the boy appeared.

“I know, senor, you say to go to bed, that you take care of the buggy—but I could no sleep. Is Mr. O'Donnell all right?”

“He's fine, Tomas. Thank you for waiting up. I need to help Miss Taylor with cleaning up her office, so I appreciate you taking the responsibility for the buggy.” The boy beamed at this compliment and jumped onto the buggy seat.

“Come along, Rachel, and tell me about the wax you found and the missing papers and why you tremble every time I touch you.” He pulled her close and smiled. “Let's start with the last part first.”

Rachel stiffened in his arms, but Braeden moved her up the stairs and inside to her office before she could even protest. Someone had thoughtfully left an oil lamp blazing cheerily since the electricity had been shut down at ten.

“I told you everything I know,” she finally managed to say. “Someone apparently broke into my office one night. I don't think it's really all that important.”

He pulled her into an embrace and shook his head. “That's to be decided. It still doesn't explain why you won't be honest with me— with yourself.”

Giggles were heard from the girls'dormitory hall. Rachel glanced over her shoulder to find Ivy and Faith watching the scene. Instantly, Rachel pushed Braeden away and turned to meet the girls head on.

“What are you doing up at this hour?” she questioned, taking the upper hand.

“We might ask the same thing,” Ivy said, toying with the ribbon on her robe. She looked seductively at Braeden and smiled. “I don't suppose you're having a meeting over the resort at this time of night.”

“Mr. O'Donnell was injured in here earlier,” Rachel announced. “He was hit over the head by someone who had broken into my office. We've just come from the doctor's office, and Mr. Parker has come to help me get things back in order.”

“Things look just fine to me,” Ivy said, her gaze never leaving Braeden. Rachel glanced down at the floor and noticed that the blood had indeed been cleaned up. “Gwen must have done that. How thoughtful.” She looked up at the girls. “Well, then, since you know what's going on, you may go back to bed.”

The girls smiled at each other, then turned to leave. Rachel heard them giggling, but she didn't care. She was just surprised to have Ivy leave without a fight. Braeden was already repositioning her desk when Rachel bent down to put the iron doorstop back in place against the wall. But as she picked it up, her hand touched the wet stickiness on the backside. She looked at her hand and saw it stained with blood. Jeffery's blood. A small gasp escaped her and she dropped the doorstop in fright.

“What is it?” Braeden questioned, but he quickly saw the cause of her alarm. Taking out his own handkerchief, he wiped the blood from her hand. “It's all right, Rachel. That's probably what the thief used to hit O'Donnell.”

“Yes,” she replied. “I'm sure you're right.” She was trembling again and couldn't stop, only this time it wasn't Braeden's nearness that caused her to quake. She kept thinking of how Jeffery could have been killed. How would she have ever explained such a thing to Simone?

Braeden pulled her close. “It's all over now. It's all right.”

“But it could have been so much worse.”

“But it wasn't. God had it all under control.”

Rachel pulled away and frowned. “If God had it under control, then why does Jeffery now have six stitches in his head?”

Braeden shrugged. “I don't suppose to have all the answers, but you have to trust God to know what He's doing, Rachel. Trust is very important.”

“Trust is hard.”

“Yes, it is,” Braeden replied. “No one knows that better than I do.

Trust is believing God is still in control, even when the woman you love walks away. Trust is believing that God can clear your name of wrongdoing, even when everyone around you believes falsely against you.”

“Oh, Braeden,” she said, realizing the depths to which she had wronged him. It only served to add to her guilt. “I'm so sorry.”

He put a finger to her lips. “I wasn't looking for an apology. I only wanted you to know that after questioning God and wondering why in the world He would allow bad things to happen to good people, I came to realize that it isn't important that I have the answers—it's only important that I trust Him.”

She looked into his blue eyes and lost her heart all over again.

Trust was the key. She knew it as well as she knew anything, but she also knew that letting go and trusting made her very vulnerable. And that frightened her more than anything.

Braeden was nearly back to his own quarters when Gwen Carson called out to him from the dining room doors. Surprised to find the normally shy young woman calling to him, Braeden stopped immediately and went to see what was wrong.

“You're keeping mighty late hours, Miss Carson.”

“I know,” she said, glancing over her shoulder as if afraid someone might see her. “But I had to tell you something, and I couldn't do it with Miss Taylor around.”

Braeden narrowed his eyes. “What is it?”

“I cleaned up the office—” “Yes, I saw that. It was a kind act of responsibility.”

“I didn't tell you about it in order to receive praise. It's just that … well … there was something else.”

“I don't understand, Miss Carson. What is it you're trying to say?”

He could see that she was extremely nervous, and instantly his mind began to conjure all manner of thought. Had she seen something? Had the thief returned? “Please tell me what's the matter.”

Gwen nodded. “I cleaned up the blood, then I tried to move Rachel's desk back, but it was too heavy. So I thought if I opened the drawers, I could take them out and lighten up the weight.”

She faltered, and Braeden could see that she was clearly shaken. “Go on,” he urged.

“I opened the largest of the drawers … and … and … inside it … well, inside it was a snake.”

“A snake?” Braeden questioned. “How would a snake get inside a desk drawer?”

Gwen shook her head. “I don't know, but it was there and I think somebody put it there to hurt Rachel.”

Suddenly Braeden got a bad feeling about the entire matter. “What kind of snake was it?”

Gwen's eyes widened. “It was a rattler.”

“What did you do about it?” Braeden was trying desperately to keep his emotions under control.

“I took it out of there.”

He smiled at the shy girl. “You?”

“I've had to deal with snakes since we lived in a soddy when I was just a girl. They don't frighten me all that much, but this was different.” Braeden actually reached out and hugged the young woman. “You may well have saved Rachel's life. You should be commended.”

“I figured I'd tell you because Miss Taylor might not think it was all that important. She tries hard to take care of herself, you know. She's a very proud woman.”

He smiled. “Yes, I know. Look, you did the right thing in telling me. I believe you may well be right about someone trying to hurt Rachel. I'll need you to help me keep an eye on her. Can you do that for me?”

“I'll do whatever I can to keep her from harm. She's been a wonderful friend to me.”

Braeden nodded. “Go to bed. Tomorrow is a big day and we'll all need our strength.” She turned to go, then Braeden called again. “And thanks for what you did.” He watched her until she disappeared into the kitchen. With a calm he didn't feel, Braeden closed the dining room doors and wondered silently how he was going to deal with this latest incident. It would appear, he thought, that this was no theft. This act was more along the lines of a threat, and Rachel was clearly the intended victim.

  
SEVENTEEN
  

CASA GRANDE APPEARED TO BE a tremendous success. From the first morning meal until the afternoon luncheon, elegantly dressed people flooded into the resort with no other purpose than to celebrate. Rachel was exhausted by the time the noon meal was finally served, and as customers sat around the tables enjoying their dessert, she finally took a moment to grab a glass of water for herself.

“You are working much too hard,” Reg chided her. He seemed genuinely concerned, but he also seemed a little preoccupied, even as he studied her.

“This day is much harder than the others will be,” Rachel replied. “I'm not giving anything of myself that everyone else isn't giving.”

“I suppose you didn't sleep well last night,” he murmured. His expression seemed to almost dare her to deny it.

“Honestly, I'm fine.”

“Still, you haven't even eaten.”

“I had some breakfast,” she protested.

“Here, at least have a bit of fruit,” Reg encouraged.

“No, I have to get back on the floor. Ivy Brooks is giving me considerable grief, and I must oversee her constantly. She never listens to Gwen.” Reg nodded, as if understanding completely.

Rachel handed Reg the glass, smiled, and squared her shoulders. It was rather like going into battle, she thought. She came into the room just as Ivy's lyrical laughter filled the air. She stood at a table of welldressed business associates for the Santa Fe. Smiling and batting her eyelashes, Ivy flirted outrageously with one particularly handsome man.

Gritting her teeth, Rachel went to the table and smiled. “Are you gentlemen finding everything to your liking?” she questioned.

Like children caught stealing cookies, the men looked nervously down at their plates, while Ivy sobered and turned on Rachel.

“I have everything under control here,” she told Rachel sternly.

“That's wonderful,” Rachel replied. “Then if you gentlemen have no other needs at the present, I must have a word with my employee.”

They nodded, murmuring their understanding, but Ivy was hardly receptive. She was clearly angry that Rachel would dare disturb her plans. Rachel ignored the look on Ivy's face and instead stopped long enough before leaving the dining room floor to tell Gwen Carson that they were retiring for a few moments to the office.

Once inside the privacy of her quarters, Rachel closed the office door and turned to face Ivy's hostility.

“If someone else takes my tips because of this little escapade,” Ivy declared, “I'll tell my aunt and see to it that justice is done.”

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